


Thirteenth Doctor and Gender Drabbles

by AmAgusSpas



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 13 will answer to all identities, Acceptance, Alien Culture, Angst, Angst and Feels, Body Dysphoria, Body Image, Character Study, Coming Out, Discussion of Pronouns, Dreams and Nightmares, Euphoria, Fluff, Friendship, Gay Panic, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Identity, Genderfluid Character, Haircuts, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Inner Dialogue, Intrusive Thoughts, Joyful, Jumpers, Lingerie, Makeup, Memories, Nightmares, Nonbinary Character, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Solitary Confinement, Suits, Team as Family, binding, joyfriends, soft!nb!doc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-02-08 02:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21468220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmAgusSpas/pseuds/AmAgusSpas
Summary: Mostly this is a drabble series I'll be updating very sporadically, about 13 and the confusing world of gender and the various things that are discovered along the way.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & Graham O'Brien, Thirteenth Doctor & Ryan Sinclair, Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 81
Kudos: 163





	1. One and Two

**Author's Note:**

> So! Originally this was just going to be a little private thing that I kept to myself and a few people interested in this.  
But then I realised that maybe it would be nice to share it?  
I don't know. Either way this may come off as really self-inserty and I'm not sorry.
> 
> Mixing chaotic 13 and chaotic gender struggles? Brilliant.

One - A Photo  


Something had been bothering her for a while now, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. There were days where nothing at all was wrong and life went on as normal. But other days, they were a lot harder, and it confused her as to why. Everything just felt…off. Off in herself. In her head, in her body, just everywhere. Not that it ever completely dampened her spirits, no, she still exuded her endless positivity and optimism into the world. Inside, however, she was at odds with herself. When she had nothing to distract herself, the thoughts and memories came in. She would find herself wistfully looking back at her previous lives, forgoing all mention of anyone else, just focusing on herself. Himself.

That was the first time something clicked.

Coming out of regeneration and being told she was a woman had somewhat surprised her. Although, with all the energy still buzzing at the time, it was more excitement than anything else. It wasn’t unheard of for Time Lords to change gender when regenerating, she had seen it first hand with the Master and then Missy. She had seen it with the Corsair countless times. Except…they were all still of their first line. She wasn’t. She had spent all of her life as a man, countless years, and had gotten quite used to it. When her last self had gone on about wanting to have a fresh start and letting go, apparently that meant everything. She had not exactly been expecting something so literal. Still, it was one of those challenges she liked to face head on. Although she had no idea how to even begin going about it.

Time Lord’s didn’t care for gender. The only reason she put a name to it at all was because of the amount of time she had spent on earth and around humans. They needed that kind of thing more than she did, at least for another few hundred years or so. There was still so much time before people just were. Annoyingly, her being female had caused more problems than she had anticipated. Not only did it make her mad, it also brought more strange feelings into the mix. It wasn’t just anger, it was discomfort too. Just because she was a woman…didn’t mean that she was. To her, it logistically made sense, but trying to put the feelings into words was a nightmare.

That was, until Ryan was the first to broach the subject with her.

She had been clearing out one of the many junk rooms on the TARDIS, cursing the fact they still existed, when Ryan had happened to wander past. As bits and pieces spilt out into the hallway, his eyes happened upon a large photograph sticking out of a pile of books. Drawn towards it, he picked it out of the pile, brows knitting together in confusion. As the noise inside the room died down, he knocked against the door and smiled as the Doctor stumbled over various items as she made her way over. There was a smile on her face, but Ryan saw it fall slightly as her eyes turned towards the photograph.

“Y’alright Ryan? Sorry, was I making too much noise?”

Ryan shook his head, suddenly nervous and toeing at the ground.

“Nah, not really. I…um…this fell outta one of the books and I…”

Part of him wanted to ask about it, a little hint of a memory coming back about some ‘white haired Scotsman’ who seemed to fit the photo in his hands, but as he noticed the shine leaving the Doctor’s eyes, he also wanted to just pretend it had never happened at all. Thankfully, the Doctor dragged him out of his daze by taking the photograph and laughing quietly.

“That was when Bill taught me what a selfie was. You lot still do those? Must do, it’s only been a year or so since I was last here. In Earth terms. Been ages for me. Feels like ages too.”

As the Doctor walked back inside the room, Ryan cautiously followed behind, surprised that an old office chair was offered up to him to sit on. She meanwhile, sat herself on top of a dusty desk, shifting piles of papers onto the floor for better purchase. The photo was twisted in between her fingers, torn edges fraying further. Ryan had to ask, there was nothing else for it.

“Bill is…”

Smiling softly, the Doctor turned the photograph around again and pointed towards the woman with tightly wound hair.

“That’s Bill. I taught her back when I was a teacher. Lecturer. Whatever they’re called now.”

Ryan nodded slightly, reaching across the threshold and pointing at the man with the wild grey hair.

“So, like, this guy then?”

“That’s me. Well, was me. Just before I met you lot actually. Eyebrows for days, attack eyebrows even, that’s what I used to call them. He was a bit of a grump, but that didn’t last for long.”

As Ryan listened, he could hear something different in the Doctor’s voice. Usually she was full of energy, but her tone had shifted. It was more sombre and melancholy, but he couldn’t work out why. He had heard Graham talk about the past fondly, even the bad memories, and the Doctor didn’t sound like that.

“You know when we first met, on the train? I didn’t get why Yaz called me madam?”

“Yeah?”

“Well…that’s cause it was the first time it’d ever happened. Hadn’t been a woman until now. Not ever. Seen it happen to other people though, I mean I already told you lot that the Corsair wasn’t always how you saw her.”

The Doctor placed the photograph down in her lap, reclining back on her hands as if lost in thought. There was something else, another thought burning on the tip of Ryan’s tongue. Under any other circumstances, he knew he would have put his foot in it and just come out with it, but this time he was thinking it over. The Doctor hadn’t given a lot about herself away, not until this point at least, and he didn’t want to ruin that by being insensitive. Under the guise of needing to go and help Graham with lunch, Ryan turned back around to look at the Doctor.

“Mind if I ask something? You don’t hav’ta answer if you don’t want.”

“What’s up?”

“Does it…you know…feel weird sometimes?”

The Doctor sat upright, looking back down at the photograph with a weary smile.

“Yeah…I guess it does.”

* * *

Two - A Talk  


The Doctor was quiet. Yaz didn’t like it when the Doctor was quiet. Sure, she was well within her rights to be, whenever she wanted, but it still unnerved her slightly. Perhaps it was because of how the day had gone, it was certainly unconventional even for them. She had seen the Doctor get outraged before when it came to being a woman, and Yaz could do nothing but feel for her. She had been on the same end of the stick more times than she could count. But this time, something about it was different. There hadn’t been a clash, or a butting of heads. Nobody had said she was lesser for being a woman, oh no, far from it. The Doctor had been garnering attention. Yaz had never seen it before, neither had Ryan or Graham, and she was beginning to wonder if that had caused the sudden shift in the Doctor’s mood.

Yaz recalled the first time she met the Doctor, how she had used her formal tone and referred to her as madam, and received somewhat of an excitable response. As the weeks had worn on and she had come to know the Doctor, Yaz guessed that the excitement was just because she was still bustling with energy and not really with it enough to come back at the remark. It was almost the opposite of the responses she had seen the Doctor give off earlier in the day. Her natural awkwardness and anxiety had practically skyrocketed, less startled and more…put down. Yaz had seen her eyes darting around the room, watched her arms fold over her chest protectively, a frantic exit from the situation happening more than once. Something was clearly bothering the Time Lord, and it was going to take all the care in the world to figure out how to talk about it.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long before the Doctor was knocking on her bedroom door and silently sliding into her room.

“Um, Yaz? Can I…can I sit with you for a bit?”

Taking one of her earbuds out and drawing the music volume down, Yaz patted the other side of her bed and offered a soft smile. The Doctor lingered in the doorway for a moment, unsure, before eventually taking slow steps towards the bed and sitting down as close to the edge as possible. Noticing the dejected posture, Yaz promptly turned her music off and shuffled closer.

“Are you alright, Doctor?”

Yaz was met with the usual cheery grin and joyful tone, but the more the Doctor spoke, the quicker her façade faded away.

“Oh, yeah, fine. Absolutely fine. Just wanted to see how you were. After today I mean. It was a bit all over, and I…um…actually…no, no I don’t think I am okay. Not really.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. We can just sit and be quiet.”

Reaching over, Yaz slowly moved her hand until it was resting against the Doctor’s knee, gently stroking against the fabric of her culottes. There was a moment where nothing happened and Yaz wondered if she had misread some signals about space and comfort, before she felt the Doctor place one hand on top of her own. After a few seconds of sharing a knowing gaze, Yaz coerced the Doctor to lie down properly, allowing her to take up the other side of the bed. Her hair had fanned out across the pillows, chest rising and falling slowly as she finally looked calm for the first time in the day. Yaz could still smell the wood and burning clinging to her hair, pushing it aside as concern over the silence came back once more.

“Do you like being a woman?”

Yaz turned her head to the side, confusion painted on her face. There was nothing discernible about the Doctor’s facial expression either, which was worrisome. At first, the question did nothing but stun her into silence, not sure how to even begin responding. Then, she thought about it more. Ryan had said something to her a few days prior, something about the Doctor being…sad? Almost as if she…

Then it clicked.

“I’ve never really thought about it much. It just…is.”

Rolling over onto her side to get a better look at the Doctor, Yaz quietly probed.

“Do you think about it?”

Another silence settled around them, just existing in empty space, before the Doctor let out a sigh. Her fingers knotted into her shirts, dragging the fabric up slightly out of her culottes. The anxious movements were accompanied by the Doctor chewing on her lower lip, and Yaz swore she could hear some kind of mumbling or humming. She wanted to reach out and touch her again, to still the movements of anxious hands, but Yaz knew better. It was always better to wait behaviours out, than to interrupt them. Create a safe and open environment, let the other person lead the charge. Her patience was rewarded by the Doctor turning her head towards her, eyes shimmering.

“Humans are so confusing, Yaz. You put so much stock in labels and ideas, instead of just existing. I know they bring you comfort, but one day you won’t need them. Time Lord’s never had that…we just…existed. I don’t think I knew what a gender even was until I found Earth. I was just…me. The most I got was grandfather. That felt right, for the time. I never bothered about what people called me, or referred to me as. Nobody else cared either. But me…but sometimes, when I hear things…when people refer to me…outside the way I once knew…I thought I would get used to it. I mean, I have to, right? I am a woman so I just…have to be one. No matter what it entails.”

As the Doctor spoke, a single tear rolled down her cheek and set a stain into her magenta shirt. Yaz finally broke the stalemate she had set on herself, opening her arms for the Doctor to fall in between. It had been a while since they had last hugged, but the moment seemed right. The Doctor wasn’t crying, just huffing and puffing into her shoulder, obviously still in some kind of distress. Yaz knew she couldn’t possibly even begin to imagine what kind of thoughts were going on inside the Doctor’s head, how they were making her feel, but she hoped that talking about them would at least alleviate some of the weight on her shoulders. She held her in her arms until the Doctor finally fell quiet, ever so slowly pulling away with red rimmed eyes. Apparently, she was still holding back the tears.

“I won’t ask you to tell me what you’re feeling, or why, or anything like that. You can do it in your own time, okay? I just want you to know that I’m here for you. No matter what. If there’s anything you need, anything at all, then don’t you hesitate to tell me.”

Pulling her arms inside the sleeves of her coat, the Doctor sniffled quietly as she nodded along to Yaz’s words. For another few hours, the pair of them lay together on the bed, listening to the music from Yaz’s phone. The Doctor drifted away from her fears and near identity crisis, more than happy just to be existing in the moment with someone who could even begin to understand.


	2. Three

Three - A Suit

Out of the darkest parts of her whirling thoughts, came a moment of light. It had been rather unexpected, spurred on by the environment they were about to find themselves thrust in, and for once the Doctor was also feeling brave. Another message had come through the TARDIS systems earlier in the day, inviting her and whatever entourage she possessed, to visit the grand unveiling of a museum outside the Helinius System. It would commemorate the history of the planets located in the cluster, the curators having taken back items of historical importance that had been stolen or lost over the centuries. Easiest way to draw her in, and the Doctor always enjoyed an excuse to unwind from time to time. While her fam had been exited by the idea of a formal dress code, the Doctor had vehemently swore just to turn up in her usual attire. If anything, the Time lord’s name proceeded them when it came to fashion choices, and they were pretty much exempt from any and all rules. However, when Yaz disappeared from the console room muttering about if she had brought her make up kit on board, something struck her.

She was interested in it.

There were a few hours before they were set to travel, and so the Doctor set about setting up screens upon screens of images. She trawled through the archives, scanning every image with excruciating detail. Images of women, men, every species and look in between. There were bright, over-the-top looks mixed in with neutral and subdued, all of them calling to her in different ways. Some of them did have the unintended side effect of making her feel worse, but then another photograph would arrive that reignited her spirits. Buzzing with excitement, the Doctor gathered all the ideas up in her head and made her way down the corridor towards Yaz’s bedroom. If she trusted anyone with her personal appearance, it was Yaz. Of course, having makeup also meant the opportunity for a complete makeover, something that the Doctor was suddenly looking even more forward to.

By the time she reached Yaz’s bedroom door, closed tight and shuffling permeating the faux wood, the Doctor lingered for a moment until the noises died down and she could knock in quick succession. Clearly not expecting any kind of company, Yaz called out to wait a moment before eventually opening the door with a curling iron in one hand.

“Doctor? Don’t tell me it’s time to go already.”

“Hiya Yaz! No, not time yet. But…you remember a few days back when you said I could come to you for stuff?”

Slightly confused by the Doctor’s cheery tone and wide smile, Yaz opened the door of her room further, allowing the Time Lord to slip inside and eagerly bounce on her heels. Yaz dropped the curling iron onto the heatproof mat on her bed, finally plugging them into the extension lead before turning back towards the Doctor.

“What can I help with?”

The Doctor pointed to Yaz’s phone, mouthing a thank you as it landed in her hands. It took all of a few seconds for her to bring up some of the images she had seen in her archives, flicking through them for Yaz to take a look at.

“I feel like…I wanna do something like this. Something that makes me feel more like me.”

Handing Yaz back her phone, the Doctor’s face fell a little more into a frown, a slight blush creeping up across her cheeks as Yaz smiled so softly in her direction.

“Thing is, I’m rubbish at knowing what to do, so I wondered if you could help me get ready for tonight? You know, fix my hair up, try some make up on, maybe get myself a flash new suit. Right now I kinda do feel a little more feminine but I still don’t quite feel right going all out, you know? Does that make sense? I hope it does, and I’m not rambling…Still not sure how to put any of this into actual words, never had to think about it until now.”

Yaz was only half way through getting ready herself, with her hair still to curl and dress to slide into. However, she was not about to turn down such an earnest request, one that held such a lot of gravitas. Smile widening and ideas buzzing side her head, Yaz urged the Doctor to sit on the foot of her bed.

“The boy’s won’t be able to recognise you after this. Let’s get a shift on, Doctor.”

* * *

True to her word, when Yaz was finished with the Doctor and presented her to Ryan and Graham, jaws hit the floor. With a little help from her curling iron, Yaz had managed to almost slick the Doctor’s hair back with gentle waves and the illusion of a much shorter cut. Her eyes were brought out to their full multi-tonal glory by dark black-shimmer eyeshadow and thick winged eyeliner, topped off with contouring around her cheekbones and neck. The black silken suit she wore was made considerably more casual by the rolled up sleeves of the blazer and loosely buttoned dress shirt, an untied tie hanging underneath the collar. Fitted trousers slotted nicely into a pair of high-top black brogues with silver laces. More silver accents could be found on her outfit – blazer buttons, stars on the lining of the blazer and a lapel broach of stars with several small chains – topping the whole thing off with an air of effortless class. Linking her arm through that of the Doctor’s, Yaz flashed a smile at the awestruck boys.

“You guy’s just gonna gawp all day or are you gonna say something?”

Quickly coming to his senses, Graham smiled as he readjusted his own bow tie, eyes briefly travelling over the Doctor’s new look.

“Bloody hell, Doc, you scrub up better than the rest of us. How on earth d’ya manage looking so sharp?”

The Doctor guided Yaz over towards the console, begrudgingly pulling herself away to set the TARDIS into motion.

“Y’can thank Yaz for all this. She’s a proper little wonder.”

As the TARDIS rocked and jostled, Ryan held on to the other side of the console, raising an eyebrow slightly. However, he thought better of his first retort, settling on something a little less on the nose.

“Sharp’s an understatement. Honestly, I think the Doctor’s looking better than the both of us combined. And here’s me thinkin’ I could go and get an award for being the most handsome man at this shindig.”

When the ship finally stopped shaking and landed, the Doctor froze up at the console, staring intently at Ryan. She mulled over his words carefully, a smile slowly creeping up across her face.

“You think…you lot think I’m handsome?”

All three of her companions nodded in unison, filling her with a strange mix-up of emotions. Whatever it was, she couldn’t help but have a spring in her step as they set foot into the museum.


	3. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for body dysphoria in this chapter

Four - A Shower

The Doctor sat on the floor of the bathroom, hugging her knees as she pressed her back further against the pedestal of the sink. The cool of the porcelain did nothing to distract her frantically beating hearts or her racing mind. She had been sat there for god knows how long now, suddenly overcome by the worst feelings of fear and self-loathing she had ever experienced. Deciding not to use her own private bathroom after feeling a wave of nausea, she had instead opted for the communal one instead. However, her overwhelmingly negative bodily reactions had continued regardless, leaving her lost in a state of limbo. In amongst the warring thoughts, the Doctor could only wonder what was wrong with her. All she had wanted to do was have a shower after diving into the collapsing coal mines of Orion 2, smudges of black still staining her face. Except that hadn’t happened. She was instead paralyzed on the bathroom floor.

“What’s wrong with me?”

Mumbling into her coat sleeves, the Doctor tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling. The dim lights of the bathroom left spots before her eyes, but it was at least something different to focus on. Sadly, her distraction was cut short by a quiet knock at the door, as well as a testing push against the lock.

“Doc? Is that you in there?”

Ryan stood on the other side of the door, somewhat perplexed by the lock in place. He had sworn that the Doctor had gone off to her own room, but apparently not. There wasn’t the sound of running water either, but he merely assumed that the Doctor was almost done with her showering. Returning to rest her chin on top of her arms, the Doctor let out a hum of confirmation, drawing her knees up closer as she heard the shuffling outside.

“You, uh…you alright in there? If you’re still busy I’ll just go to my room and-”

“Haven’t done anything yet, sorry. Can’t.”

Her voice was slightly hoarse, having not been used since inhaling debris and smoke, leaving Ryan feeling oddly helpless. He had never heard the Doctor say she couldn’t do something, anything supposedly beyond her means was met with glee and excitement. He let go of the door handle, rifling around in his jacket pockets for his phone. If something was up with the Doctor, then he wasn’t really the best person for the job, but at least he could get some more info to send off.

“What’d’ya mean, can’t? Has the TARDIS cut off the water or something?”

At least his questions earned him the faintest of laughs.

“No, she’s fine. I just…dunno. I feel weird. Not sick, just…”

The Doctor sighed, mumbling further into her coat, leaving it impossible for Ryan to catch what she was saying. He quickly typed out a message to Yaz, relaying over the information. As much as he wanted to help, if it was a private matter then perhaps the Doctor would open up better to Yaz. That, and he was certainly not about to cross any personal boundaries. As the Doctor remained silent, Ryan took his leave, briefly crossing Yaz speeding down the hallway with panic in her eyes. He did his best to explain in whispers, gaining a quick nod before he and Yaz parted ways.

When another knock sounded at the door, the Doctor had no will left in her to respond.

“Doctor?”

Yaz tried the door, even though she knew it was locked, just to try and get some kind of reaction.

“Doctor, can I come in?”

She stood in the hallway, waiting and debating, very tempted to try talking through the barricade before she heard movement inside the bathroom. Yaz watched the door handle, surprised at the sound of the lock clicking accompanied by the familiar buzz of the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver. The Doctor was not actively inviting her inside, but Yaz still pressed on and slowly pushed the door open. It took her a moment to adjust to the dim lighting, looking down at the very withdrawn Time Lord. Most of her hair was covering her soot stained face, but Yaz could see hazel-green eyes looking up at her all the same. Clicking the door behind her, she dropped down to the grey tile floor and slowly made her way towards the Doctor, coming to sit in front of her.

“Hey you.”

The Doctor lifted her head slightly, trying desperately to smile, but finding it next to impossible. As her head came to rest on her arms again, Yaz looked around the room. She could see a set of nightwear sitting on the toilet seat, along with a large towel on the heated rack. Bottles of all sorts were scattered around the rim of the bath, all in various states of use, several lined up in the corner for possible use. When Yaz looked back at the Doctor, she had her head resting underneath the sink bowl.

“Hi Yaz. Sorry. You didn’t have to come get me. You can go back and do whatever it is you were doing before all…this…happened.”

Tired hands just about gestured at herself, stilled by Yaz’s own.

“This being? You not having that shower you mentioned?”

“Yeah, you could say that. I tried a bath too but…just couldn’t do it. I tried to take my coat off…but…”

With her voice trailing off to a mumble, Yaz gave the Doctor’s hands a gentle squeeze. She took a moment to mull over the words offered to her, trying to work out the best way to offer up another question. Yaz didn’t want to probe, especially not with the Time Lord’s voice already wavering around, but it would be easier to understand if it was a ‘fit it’ problem or a ‘listen to me’ one.

“Did something happen, or was it more…something felt off?”

Having already made the Doctor feel more comfortable in herself after the museum opening, Yaz found herself almost at a loss for what to do now that the Doctor had flipped to the other end of whatever scale she was currently teetering on. She watched her sigh, neck straining as her eyes drifted up to the ceiling.

“I think I’m scared, Yaz. Scared of myself. How I look. It doesn’t feel right, not today anyway, and I don’t like it. I don’t like me and I don’t want to see it. But I know I need to clean all this muck off and…I panicked. I thought maybe if I did it somewhere else I would be fine, but it feels even worse now. Just…I’m so soft…there’s too many curves and my chest feels like it’s made of lead and…and…”

As the Doctor’s voice began to crack, knees pushing even harder against her chest, Yaz let go of the Doctor’s hands and moved over to sit beside her instead. A stark difference between her training and first-hand experience was making itself known to her. Whilst she had no knowledge herself, she had seen and heard things in her life that all knitted together to create a better picture. The Doctor was clearly struggling with being a woman, so much so that she was too afraid to even look at herself. When the Doctor came to lean against her side for comfort, she got to thinking of anything and everything that could possibly help. After a few moments, something came into her head. Yaz had no idea if it was even viable, or helpful, but she was willing to take the stab in the dark for the Doctor’s sake.

“Would it help if you couldn’t see yourself? While you’re in the shower I mean? Like…do you have any old swimming stuff somewhere?”

“Yaz, what’re you getting at?”

Taking her eyes off the ceiling, the Doctor turned her attention towards Yaz, brows furrowed with confusion. If she was honest with herself, Yaz was hoping that a little sound boarding would work, as she had no real idea of what she was getting at herself.

“Swimwear kind of…it holds everything back. I know when I put a suit on, everything’s all tucked in and stuff. Someone at work had one that’s got legs in, saw it when we had a charity swim-athon. She wanted to hide the scars on her thighs from everyone, and said it helped a lot when she felt really bad. Maybe it’d work for this too?”

For a brief moment, the Doctor’s eyes lit up, until her face fell again.

“I mean, I probably do have something like that lying around, picked up all sorts of stuff me…but…I can’t get my clothes off to get it on. I’d still see me.”

“You said you’ve got better eyes than us, right? Couldn’t you manage it in the dark?”

“I…hold on…Yaz, I think you’re on to something here. Of course I can turn the lights off! I’ll be able to get around fine and…oh, this is brilliant. Thank you! D’you mind coming with me to the wardrobe though? I still don’t feel right doing it on my own in case I panic again.”

Yaz smiled as the Doctor scrambled up onto her feet, offering out a hand for her to take, using it to pull herself up in kind. With their fingers linked together, she was dragged through the TARDIS until they both made it to the wardrobe room. Yaz had only been inside once or twice, still in awe at just how many different kinds of clothes were scattered around the place. She followed the Doctor to one of the many chests of drawers, almost a little taken aback at one drawer being fit to bursting of swimwear. Apparently, the Doctor had no use for them, and really had just collected more than her fair share over the years. She left Yaz in charge of rummaging around, rocking back and forth on her heels until something was presented towards her. It looked like a wetsuit, but with half of the legs and arms cut off so they stopped above the knees and elbows. It was mostly black, save for a blue stripe down the middle, and it looked to be more or less her size.

“But won’t wearing this mean I’m not clean enough?”

“For now, that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re okay. Who knows what tomorrow will bring for you. You could also just use a wet cloth in the dark, before you get changed again, but really it’s whatever you feel comfortable with.”

All things considered, the Doctor realised that she felt the most comfortable with Yaz.


	4. Five

Five - A Shop

The Doctor wondered how she had found herself in the situation. She did know partially, fact being that she was more or less a woman and she would do anything to make Yaz happy, but otherwise she had no idea what on earth was happening. Things had started out relatively simple – would you come shopping with me? – and the Doctor was content with that. However, none of that had been prefaced with the kind of shopping they were doing. So when both of them found themselves standing outside a shop window, displaying the most intricate kinds of women’s underwear, the Doctor found it terribly difficult to respond to any of the questions Yaz was throwing her way. She had been silent for so long that Yaz had to wave a hand in front of her face to get her attention.

“Doctor, you don’t have to come in with me if it makes you feel uncomfortable.”

Shaking her head, the Doctor put on her best smile and gestured towards the open doors of the shop.

“Nonsense, I’m fine, honestly. If you wanna get some stuff from here then that’s no problem at all.”

Much to Yaz’s surprise, the Doctor strode inside the shop, heading off without her. She quickly caught up, finding the Time Lord standing stock still only a few feet away from the doors. She was thankful that the place was mostly empty, save for one or two other women and the shop attendants. All the little racks and hooks around the room were filled with bras and pants of all kinds, mannequins displaying the latest trends directly in front of the Doctor’s eyes. Yaz could see the beginnings of a flush creeping over the Doctor’s face as her fingers idly toyed with the sleeves of her coat. Before Yaz could check in again, a habit she had been picking up recently, she caught sight of one of the attendants making her way towards them. She looked to be around her own age, short curly hair bouncing as she walked, regarding both of them with a welcoming smile. The Doctor seemed not to notice her presence, not until she spoke and made her jump.

“Hi, is there anything I can help you with today? We’ve got space free for bra fittings for the next hour if you need a hand with getting the perfect fit.”

She regarded Yaz first, pointing over to the sign advertising fittings to punctuate her point. Shaking her head, Yaz explained that she was fine and knew what she was after. Her hopes were that the attendant, nice though she was, would depart and let her carry on with things. Instead, she turned towards the Doctor as if picking up on the nervous energy she was radiating.

“And you?”

True to Yaz’s fears, the Doctor looked like a deer in the headlights. She tried to speak once, twice, before finally getting her words out.

“I…um…I haven’t done this before…so…this is all new to me…”

There was a moment of pause, one that made Yaz’s heart leap into her throat. Before she could interject, however, the woman’s face softened considerably.

“Well, my name’s Elise. If you have any questions at all, no matter if you think they sound silly, come and find me or one of my colleagues. We’d be more than happy to help in whatever way we can. It can be a bit daunting, coming to somewhere like this for the first time, but I can assure you you’re in safe hands. You and your girlfriend are free to use the changing rooms over at the back for as long as you need.”

Just as quickly as she had come, Elise was off, leaving a very dumbfounded Doctor in her wake. So many questions were buzzing around inside her head, which were all a welcomed distraction from the strange feelings of embarrassment and unease she was currently feeling. Yaz looped an arm through the Doctor’s, squeezing her forearm gently.

“Yaz…what…what just happened?”

“You know what, I’ll explain later. Might be a bit much right now. Do you still want to be around here?”

The Doctor gave a slow nod, clearly still processing the large amounts of aural and visual information filtering into her brain. She also held off on asking for the Doctor’s opinion outright, giving her the freedom to talk as she wished. After a few minutes, she slowly began to warm up to the idea, giving a short yes or no to some things, even suggesting that Yaz might be better suited to cooler tones rather than the fragrant array of pinks and reds. It was an odd experience for Yaz to boot, she had never really had anyone come along with her for such a thing, not even her mum or sister. She had just had to pick it up as she went along.

Carrying three different bras in her free hand, Yaz began to make her way towards the changing rooms, not before feeling the Doctor pull away and move back to a spot they had already been in. She was staring at a black bra, hands toying with the straps on the hanger. Yaz came over to her side, looking over it briefly.

“Yaz…I think I want to try this. Is that…um…is that alright?”

“Of course it’s alright, Doctor. Come on, we’ll take the bigger booth at the back.”

With the Doctor seated on a small stool next to the curtains, keeping herself occupied by doing some strange tinkering with her sonic screwdriver, Yaz set about trying on her possible choices. For some reason, she had found herself drawn to some very lace-heavy items. Still, she reminded herself that she was with the Doctor, and if anyone made her feel safe then it was her. Discarding her blouse and current bra onto the provided hooks, she picked up her first choice – silk and lace combined – and checked the fit against her body. It took some strap adjustment for it to sit right, and several looks in the mirror, before she felt comfortable enough to turn around and hum towards the Doctor. The Time Lord lifted her head sharply, almost losing grip on her sonic in the process.

“What do you think?”

Yaz couldn’t help but smile at the heat rushing to the Doctor’s face, and the way her mouth dropped. Although, after a few seconds of staring, she felt her self-confidence plummeting.

“Um…wow. Yaz, I…”

Twisting the sonic between her fingers, the Doctor just about managed to shake herself back to reality. She raised a hand in at thumbs up and pursing her lips together, the Doctor scrambled up off her seat and made a swift exit from the changing room. In the process, Yaz caught wind of a very exasperated sigh.

“Doctor?”

“S-sorry Yaz. Can I…can I stay out here for a bit…while you do the rest?”

“That’s fine. I’ll tell you when I’m done.”

Yaz heard a mumbled thank you, smiling and shaking her head. She turned back around to the mirror, taking another moment to inspect the bra. She was pleased with the fit, and was nothing if not a little selfish in enjoying the reaction she got. The other two bras took no time at all to sort through, partly to her dismay. One had removable straps, but she found them far too easy to unhook and get tangled up in or have the bra drop slightly. The other had less padding than she would have liked, irritated by the unusually abrasive lace across the front. All in all, Yaz was out of the changing room in around ten minutes, separating her purchase from the returns pile. She held open the pink filigree curtains, opening the changing room back up again.

“You don’t have to-”

“Oh, hi Yaz. Sorry. Bit stuffy in there. Needed some space. Guess it’s, uh, it’s my go then.”

Before Yaz could react to the Doctor’s words, she was off into the changing room again, pulling the curtain out of Yaz’s hand and sealing herself in. While she waited, Yaz took her unwanted items back to the appropriate hangers and saw one of the other attendants giving her a knowing nod from the tills. She gave her a smile back, heading back to the changing rooms and leaning against one of the walls of an empty booth. Inside, the Doctor stared at the bra hanging on the empty hook. It was very simple, really; a t-shirt bra with extra banding up and around the chest, framing it delicately. It was by far the least feminine thing out there, but the thought of wearing it still filled the Doctor with some kind of dread. At least it felt nice under her fingers.

After ten minutes, Yaz was starting to get worried about the Doctor. She could hear her shuffling around inside, but there had been too long a silence. Part of her wanted to peer around the curtain, but she simply settled on clearing her throat instead. There was a quiet squeak, some more shuffling, until the Doctor pushed her head out of the curtains. Her face was somehow even redder than before, and all it did was make Yaz smile more.

“Do you…do you think it’ll be alright?”

Crossing her arms over her chest loosely, Yaz gestured to the curtain with a nod of her head.

“Won’t know unless you step out a bit or let me in.”

Realising her mistake, the Doctor disappeared back inside, soon parting the curtains. However, when she went to step forward, she misjudged the distance of the trailing fabric and tripped forwards. Yaz stepped forwards and caught her, gently coercing her back inside. Safely away from prying eyes, Yaz had her chance to take in the Doctor’s chosen item. She didn’t notice her standing up straight, her shuffling awkwardly on the spot, nor how her face fell. Yaz only saw the passage of time when the Doctor went to collect her sports bra and t-shirts.

“Didn’t think it looked right…let’s just get yours and-”

“No, no! Hold up! It doesn’t look bad, not at all. I just…I’ve never seen you in anything like that before. It looks…really good. Really, really good. Will you let me buy it?”

The Doctor paused, taking note of the colour on Yaz’s cheeks before turning to look in the mirror again. She huffed and smiled, giving a small nod.

“Okay. For you. But only if we can go back to that place that had the shorts with dinosaurs and planets on. I think I’d like those.”


	5. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how Jodie said she wanted 13 with short hair?  
Remember all that artwork we got of that?
> 
> Thank you artists for giving me ideas.

Six - A Haircut

There was quite a wind picking up across the planet, kicking up sand and dust as it passed over Tezeborous. The Doctor has passed all of them goggles at some point, just to be extra safe, which was very apt given the circumstances. It was growing less and less likely that they would find the TARDIS in such a strong storm, although the Doctor remained as optimistic as ever. Still, Graham had to wonder how she could even begin to see in front of her face with all of her hair flying around. Him and Ryan were fine, and even Yaz was managing with her full length braid. But the Doctor? She looked worse than a drowned sheepdog. In his opinion anyway.

“Doc, are you sure we’re going the right way?”

“’course I am! Absolutely positive. Why, don’t you trust me?”

That was far from the point. With a strong huff, the Doctor veered off to the left, dragging her dust-coated fam into a nearby cave and giving them a moment to shake themselves clean again. While Yaz and Ryan emptied their shoes of sand, Graham made his way over to the Doctor, who was leaning up against the cave wall with the goggles pinned to the top of her head. In an amusing way, it looked as if the Time Lord had been dragged rather unceremoniously through a hedge. A few times.

“Alright Graham? We’ll be back soon, don’t worry. Just didn’t expect it to be dust storm season. There’s normally planetary warnings across the system if there are, little messages left in space for passing ships to avoid the planet. Guess they were overridden by the distress signal. Still, glad we could help stop that cave-in.”

Graham nodded along absentmindedly, swiping both hands over the top of his head to loosen the dust. White and gold flecks covered his parka, but at least he could no longer taste it in his mouth.

“Oh yeah Doc, no problems here. Just…couldn’t help but wonder how you can navigate with such a mop on you.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, eyes lifting up as one hand patted the top of her head.

“Only thing I’m wearing is goggles…”

“No, not an actual mop. It’s an expression. I’m on about your hair. ‘cause if I’m being honest, it’s definitely a lot longer than it used to be, and I’m surprised you know where you’re going with it blowing about in your face all the time.”

Mouth falling into an ’o’ shape, the Doctor tugged at one end of her hair, her knuckles brushing past her bare shoulders. In truth, she had never really paid attention to her hair. Aside from the brief moment after her regeneration. She just let it do whatever it wanted, especially as the Doctor hardly ever spent a second to look in a mirror on a day to day basis. She repeated the tug on the other side, just to confirm her suspicions. Now she thought about it, it certainly had not been that long before. Maybe to her chin? Hard to remember. More often than not, she was far more focused on doing things, and her sight had never factored in. She just got on with things.

On the other hand…she had to admit that it was rather…cumbersome. That and if ever anyone ever brought up her hair, it was often followed up with some statement about her being a woman. Perhaps she had blanked them all out from being uncomfortable, or just simply had no idea how to answer. Graham had brought up a valid point, and the Doctor had become fixated on it. Or would be, once they were back on the TARDIS and sand-free.

* * *

By the time the TARDIS was in view, the doors began to open for them, leaving the Doctor and her fam to quickly barrel inside. All three of her companions excused themselves to go and shower, leaving her alone in the console room. Sand-filled boots were left off to one side, blue striped socks falling silently against the warm metal grates as she moved to sit on the second step that lead off to the hallways. She twisted some of her blonde hair around one finger, looking blankly towards the central column of the TARDIS console, half watching it move up and down with the passing seconds.

“D’ya think I should do something with my hair?”

As the Doctor spoke out into the empty room, she noticed the lights dim briefly, melodic chimes and whines catching her ear. A smile came across her face, both hands now resting in her lap.

“It is a bit long…and I don’t like how people comment on it sometimes. But, I don’t know what to do with it. Any ideas?”

There was a brief pause, before the Doctor could see various images popping up inside her mind, along with an accompanying chorus of beeps. She was glad that her TARDIS wasn’t holding onto her usual talkative ways any longer, it was becoming a chore having to work things out from telepathy alone. Her fam had come to know and love the sounds, which pleased her. Still, the thoughts and words inside her head were sparking many an idea. Perhaps it was time for a re-style. After all, her previous incarnations had changed their appearance up, there was nothing from stopping her from doing the same in kind. Feeling empowered, the Doctor jumped onto her feet and made her way up the stairs and down the hallway, muttering something about a shaver.

* * *

A few hours later, Ryan, Graham and Yaz made their way back to the console room. There was a considerable amount of noise coming from there, and as expected, the Doctor was half way underneath a floor panel. All that could be seen were a pair of blue-clad legs, toes wiggling occasionally as the Doctor muttered an incoherent mix of curses and praises. Unphased by the ever-present tinkering, Yaz made her way down the stairs and made her presence known with a whistle. Like a flash, the Doctor dragged herself up from her upside-down position, lifting the heavy duty welding mask from over her eyes. Oil stains marred her exposed arms and dark beige apron, although that wasn’t what was being stared at. All three of them were staring at the fact that there was no hair covering the Doctor’s eyes, nor tucked into her welding mask.

“Ah! You all doing alright now? Remind me next time to check the weather properly. Sorry about that, hope the baths and showers helped you. Now then, you all dragging me off to…”

She paused, freeing herself from the welding mask by dropping it haphazardly to the ground, head dipping slightly. Except, the resounding echo did not stop the stares.

“Um…fam? What’re you all looking at? Don’t tell me I got some muck on my face or something. My own fault for not putting that old thing on sooner.”

“Doctor…did you do something with your hair?”

Yaz, being the closest, spoke up first. When the Doctor dipped her head as she dropped her mask, she caught sight of a short ponytail tying most of her hair back. It was quite messy, but there was something else too.

“What? Oh, right. Yeah! I think it’s pretty cool, personally. Whatdya reckon? Graham said it was getting a bit long. Didn’t realise until someone said something. So, the TARDIS gave me an idea of what to do with it. Makes me feel…more me, you know?”

The Doctor twisted her head to the side, revealing that her ponytail was resting above a finely shaved undercut. Her natural, darker tone was coming through, leaving the top golden and pale. With an excited hum, she tugged out the dark navy hair tie, letting her hair fall back down again with a shake of her head. Then…she looked exactly like the same old Time Lord again. A small part of the undercut could be seen when she shifted some hair behind her ear, but otherwise everything was back to normal. Yaz was a little lost for words, focusing more on keeping her breathing stable than answering. Ryan came down the steps in the silence, giving a sharp nod.

“I think you look pretty fresh, Doc. Didn’t take you for the shaved kind, suits you.”

Graham followed quickly behind him, hands in his pockets with a sheepish smile on his face. He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little guilty over the whole thing.

“Kind of only expected a bit of a trim…but I agree with Ryan, looks good on you. Hopefully you’ll be able to get on with everything without bits of air going all over the place.”

Wiping her arms against the front of her apron, the Doctor unrolled her sleeves and thrust her hands into the pockets of her culottes. She was glad that her fam approved of her new do, it was making her feel all giddy and excited inside. However, the fact that Yaz had not said anything was a little disconcerting. Shuffling across, the Doctor came to stand just in front of her, brows knitting ever so slightly in worry. Yaz looked up at her with still wide eyes, and either it was the light playing tricks on her, or there was a blush on her cheeks to boot. Was the TARDIS really that warm? She hadn’t noticed. Not with the blood rushing to her head while she worked.

“Yaz?”

Snapping back to reality with a hum of confirmation, Yaz shook her head slightly as she smiled towards the Doctor.

“Sorry…think I’m just a little tired. It looks great. Guess I’m not used to you with your hair up. Or having so little at the back. Anyway, I think Graham was about to start tea, wanna come with?”

“Oh, don’t have to tell me twice. Lemme just throw this apron off, I’ll be with you in a sec.”

While Ryan and Graham made their way back up the short staircase, Yaz lingered behind and watched the Doctor clear up her mess again. In a matter of minutes, it looked as if she had never been there at all. It was impressive how quickly she could clear up her chaos. Just as Yaz turned to make a leave, she felt fingers wrapping around her wrist, gently guiding one of her hands to the back of the Doctor’s head. Her own fingers parted their way through blonde hair, nails grazing over short fuzz and cool skin.

“What do you think? Feels nice, doesn’t it? Couldn’t stop messing with it, which is why I had to go do some work. Keep me occupied. Tea’ll do just as good I reckon. Let’s get a shift on.”

Just like that, the Doctor was off like a flash of hyped-up energy. Yaz lingered in the console room briefly, only setting off when her mind wandered to the possibility of all the ways she could touch the Time Lord’s new hairdo.


	6. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I get inspired by the new look excitement?  
Of course I did!
> 
> Also consider this offhandedly dedicated to @timedork because reasons  
(also expect a better not-drabble with this idea soon hehehe)

Seven - A Jumper

She could feel it again. The strange, uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. The weird out of sync beating of her hearts, the sweat clinging to the palms of her hands. The thought of getting into her usual attire was setting something off inside her, and she didn’t like it one bit. The last time she had felt bad, it was about being without clothes. Except now they were the problem too? It was all terribly confusing. With a heavy sigh, the Doctor wrapped the plush dressing gown tighter around her body, hugging it close with protective arms. Something needed to change. But what? She looked across at her culottes, smiling at the warm teal-blue colour. No, not them. Her boots were fine too. So were her socks, her suspenders, her coat. All of them were fine when she ran her fingers over them as they lay limp across a dejected looking chaise lounge.

The Doctor was even fine with her new array of underwear, a mish-mash of mostly masculine and the odd feminine item. Then, it clicked, as hazel-green came to gaze upon a faded rainbow on magenta looking back at her. No, surely not. She cautiously moved her fingers towards it, felt her hearts spike with fear and her hand retreat as if she had been burnt by the hottest solar flare. She couldn’t wear it. Not to day. But what else did she have? Grumbling and griping, the Doctor resolved to stay in her oversized shirt as she dressed in the rest of her clothes. Maybe it would be a good idea to tag along with Ryan and Yaz. She had heard them going off about going shopping for some new clothes, and she trusted their judgement. They approved of her haberdashery charity shop finds. She trusted them not to judge how she felt about herself.

Leaving the suspenders dangling around her hips, mostly obscured by her star spangled blouse, the Doctor made her way across to the console room, praying that she had not missed her companion’s departure. They always hung around for her to say goodbye, even when she was unsurprisingly late to proceedings for whatever reason. As she barrelled through the hallway and into the console room, almost tripping over her own feet down the steps, she caught sight of Ryan and Yaz lingering around near the doors. Graham had left a few hours earlier in the day, meeting with an old friend of his, leaving the two younger companions to debate about the day ahead. Ryan clocked onto the Doctor’s approach first, waving her over before hiding his hands back in his pocket. It took the Time Lord a moment to realise he was sporting some facial hair for a change, which threw her off before mentally deciding he suited it rather nicely. Before subconsciously stroking at her own chin in response.

“You alright there, Doctor? Where’s the fire?”

“Yeah, you don’t normally come in here all guns blazing, it’s normally once we’re out of the doors. I don’t want you cracking your nose on the console again…mum didn’t appreciate the mess in the kitchen when I had to get the first aid kit.”

Moving her coat closer around her from inside the pockets, the Doctor smiled and laughed briefly, before shrugging her shoulders.

“Oh, nothing really. Just wanted to see you off is all.”

There was a pause, a moment of shared looks, before Yaz broke the silence with a knowing smile of her own.

“Do you want to come al-”

“Yes! Um…yeah…if that’s alright I mean. I um…I’ll explain on the way. Come on.”

While the Doctor walked out into the brisk November air, Ryan and Yaz quickly questioned each other before dutifully following behind.

“Wait, you mean you ain’t in that shirt right now?”

The Doctor nodded to Ryan’s question, briefly opening her coat up just enough to prove the lack of a rainbow stripe emblazoned across her chest. It took a while before she could even get the words out about what had happened, or how she was feeling. The words felt heavy and foreign on her tongue, like they shouldn’t be there at all. Between her many pauses, she felt a pat on her shoulder off Ryan and another off Yaz too, the both of them gently coaxing her along. By the time they had taken the short walk to the shopping centre, the Doctor felt a mix of relief and trepidation. What did she even want instead of her shirts?

“Ryan, why don’t you take the Doctor with you for a bit? See if there’s anything in all those weird not-sports shops you like to hang about in. I need to go pick up something for my dad from the health food shop, so I’ll meet you in about half an hour or so, outside the bakery.”

“No probs, the Doc’ll be safe with me. Pretty sure we’ll get her sorted. Laters.”

As Yaz departed from them, the Doctor felt her nerves spike again. Somehow, she had come to see Yaz as a somewhat safety net. Her anchor. Someone who got her feelings. Ryan was a brilliant young man, and she was so glad to be able to spend some time with him, but she was dubious about if his tastes were something she was interested in. Still, better to learn than to spend her whole day hiding in a dressing gown with her anxious thoughts.

Ryan was a lot easier to shop with than Yaz, the Doctor realised. He wasted no time in pondering over various choices, simply picking up the exact pair of jeans and a hoodie that he wanted, not even bothering to try them on. She honestly wished she had his ability to decide, making decisions was not her forte by a long shot, not unless they were very serious ones. He guided her around the t-shirts, jumpers, and finally the trousers. While the Doctor did not find something to wear to hide her feelings about her torso, she did at least some away with a new pair of trousers. They looked like her regular culottes, except the legs were wider and they were a dark navy blue, coming up just shy of her kneecaps. Not winterwear, but something about them drew her in. An occasional fancy perhaps.

With the items all paid for, the Doctor sported a smile as she skipped over towards where Yaz was lingering outside a quiet bakery. She had a canvas bag hanging off her arm, phone in one had as she typed away at the screen. There was a small jump from her when the Doctor suddenly appeared in her line of sight, along with an amused Ryan following close behind.

“Yaz! Wanna see my cool new trousers? I think they’re ace.”

Before Yaz could even utter a word in response, the Doctor pulled the culottes out of the paper bag and held them against her hips, practically beaming.

“You really like blue’s, don’t you Doctor? I think they look great. But…I thought you wanted something…you know…”

The smile on her face faded slightly, motions slowing as the Doctor placed the trousers back inside the bag. She had gotten a little side-tracked…Still, having another pair of trousers to choose from was at least useful.

“Couldn’t find nothing, Yaz. You go try your luck, that second hand game tore is calling out to me something awful. Meet you back at the TARDIS yeah?”

Once again parting ways, Yaz gently ushered the Doctor over towards the closest store she recognised, wanting to know more about what the Time Lord was going through. She had learnt a few things here and there, and after some online research of her own, she was sure that the Doctor was going through various kinds of dysphoria. She wanted to help make the feeling better, and was determined to do whatever it took to help the Doctor feel comfortable in her new skin.

“You said that you felt…sick, when you saw your shirt this morning, yeah?”

The Doctor nodded, lips pursing before she responded meekly.

“Not just that…I started thinking about me in general. Like…I’m soft in places I’ve never been before. Here. And here too. Sometimes I feel like my shirts kind of highlight it. Especially if I bend down, I can see down them and it…it’s not nice.”

As she spoke slowly, the Doctor gestured to her chest and stomach, arms going back to wrap around herself as the two of them meandered around clothing rails and between other customers. Yaz had a bit of an idea of what the Doctor was getting at. She personally didn’t really enjoy low cut tops, and hated how that was the most prominent fashion item for women. She didn’t want to show anything off, just wanted to be comfortable and practical. But it was next to impossible, as evidenced by the store mannequins dressed in crop jumpers even in winter. Considering the shop a bust, Yaz quickly took the Doctor to another one, quietly breathing a sigh of relief at the less revealing items of clothing on display.

Catching on to the more reserved vibes of the store, the Doctor made a beeline towards rows of jumpers, running her hands through them and looking back towards Yaz with a smile. They were a little on the baggy side, but close enough to still keep someone warm. Also, they had an impressive array of colours on offer as well.

“Oh, Yaz, feel these. They're so soft! D’ya think I’d suit a jumper? Don’t think I’ve worn one since my seventh self. Got stuck on suits for a very long time. Old habits and all that.”

Yaz glanced over the rows again, eyes drawn towards the jumpers with various patterns on.

“Sure, if you want to try some then go ahead. Grab whatever ones you like and we can go try them on.”

It didn’t take long before Yaz was stood outside a changing room booth, eagerly awaiting the Doctor’s next choice. She had already run thought; a tartan print, polka dots, a colour fade and something that looked more like it had been drowned in alpaca fur than being an actual jumper. Suddenly, the curtains swung open, revealing the Doctor almost vibrating with nerves. Yaz hoped they were good, and judging by the glimmer in her eyes, they were.

“I really like this one. A lot. Do you think they’ll let me wear it out if I ask really really nicely? It’s so comfy!”

Of course the Doctor had chosen that one jumper. Shaking her head with a smile, Yaz managed to drag the excited Time Lord away to the tills, clinging to her in the tightest hug she had ever felt. From an uncomfortable and dejected person, concious about how their body looked, the Doctor had transformed back to her enthusiastic and seemingly confident self. All it took was a navy jumper with long sleeves and a short v-neck.

With a remarkably familiar looking rainbow stripe across the front.


	7. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz and the Doctor have a discussion about gendered language and pronouns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short update to this. Inspired by the many moments across s11 and 12 where the Doctor corrects their own language choices.

“Doctor…can I ask you something?”

“Always, Yaz.”

The Doctor’s head appeared from around the side of the console, hands still idly fiddling with various cables and wires away from Yaz’s view. There were small spots of oil against the freckles on her cheeks, eyes wide and curious. Yaz slowly made her way down the steps, having spent more than enough time staring at the Doctor from the side lines. She had wanted to spend her evening just quietly reading in the library, but her book had left many questions running around in her head. Although, there was only one in particular that was completely bothersome, and it had compelled her to seek the Doctor out. Feet firmly back on even ground, she made her way around the console and smiled softly. It took a while for her brain to settle on exactly what it was she wanted to ask, and she could see the confusion and concern soon spreading across the Doctor’s face the longer she paused.

“Does it bother you that we call you ‘she’?”

There was a sudden pop as sparks flew around the Doctor’s hands, followed by a plume of smoke, causing her to jump back and throw her arms into the air. The TARDIS let out a long groan and several beeps, which made the Doctor laugh before she turned towards Yaz. Hands ran through her short hair, fluffing it up in places and softening her appearance. Her hands then came to rest on her hips, tongue poking out between her lips briefly before she replied.

“What do you mean?”

With a slight shrug of her shoulders, Yaz moved so that she could rest her back against a part of the console that was not still smoking gently, hands contained by the front pockets of her jeans. In truth, she had no idea where she was going with the question, and had been hoping for an answer rather than a query fired back at her. Over her time spent travelling with the Doctor, she had picked up on her tendency to either be irritated by any mention of her gender or that she would stumble over words and more often than not refer to herself in any kind of masculine way. Her first instance of realising something was amiss, was back when the Doctor had said she had used to be a Scotsman. That was soon followed by a very odd stumble between ‘daddy’ and ‘mummy’ that she was sure was meant to be kept away from their ears back on Desolation. Since then she had not come into contact with such things herself, but often heard snippets of similar incidents when the Doctor was talking to the TARDIS. Ever since then, she had wondered if she had been going wrong by defaulting to the feminine pronoun set, even if there had been no obvious signs of discomfort.

“Well…I think we all just kind of…defaulted. Mostly, I think it’s my fault. I was the one who pointed out you were a woman in the first place. I don’t want you to think that we don’t care about what your identity is, and if we’ve got it wrong this whole time then I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

“Oh.”

Hazel-green eyes were pointed to the ceiling as the Doctor tipped her head back and thought. She scrambled around in her memories, trying to think back to where it all started. Remembering that wasn’t the hardest part though, it was trying to work out what her reaction had been at the time. She had just fallen from the sky, pretty much broken and reknitted her body back together again. How had she reacted to being called a woman?

_Happy_. She remembered feeling happy. Something about the complete overhaul of her identity had made her happy. There was also bits of confusion, and concern, but that had been more to do with the situation she had found herself in. Overall, the idea of womanhood hadn’t been a concern at all. In fact, it had been nice to be called ‘madam’ over 'sir' or anything else she had heard in her lifetimes. The single word stuck in her mind, shining like a beacon as she continued to ponder.

“I was…happy. Then…”

She had kept harkening back to her twelfth self. If only to make sense of the way she seemed so confused about the concept of gendered words. Back then, it had made sense. The Doctor knew all too well that she had had more than her fair share of troubles when it came to referring to herself. When it was her fam, she was fine with them doing whatever they wanted. Calling her whatever they wanted. Her problems came with anyone else. She could forgive her constant struggle at not using masculine-oriented phrases at herself – she had been a man by human standards her entire life – but when she came into contact with the worst parts of people…

“Confused. A bit angry…”

People had called her a woman like it was a bad thing. Giving her side-eyed glances, harsh words, _belittled_ her for something that was completely out of control. She no longer had her authority in the universe, couldn’t do nearly half of what she had been so used to doing, and it hurt. It hurt to feel like she was suddenly less of a Doctor, just because of how she looked. Nothing like that was ever a problem back home…She had been threatened, told she was a liar, tied up and ducked and choked. Part of it might have been due to her aggression at the time, but then the other part was clearly targeted at her perceived gender, and she hated that beyond all else.

“Hurt, and quite afraid really.”

Really, when all was said and done, the more the Doctor thought about it the more she realised she didn’t care. She knew exactly who she was and what she was capable of, the rest didn’t matter at all. Her being unable to remember the right words at the right time was just part of who she was. Despite being on Earth for a large share of her life, the whole idea of people being stuck on gender and identity baffled her. Bringing her head back down again, the Doctor shrugged her shoulders and smiled at Yaz, who was looking at her as if she had gone insane by talking to herself.

“You know…I don’t think I care. Like, at all. Time Lords have never seen gender as anything, I mean, if you’re able to regenerate into something completely different then why would you? We don’t have separate modicums for things like that. I do it because I’m just used to you lot, that and if you’ve been a ‘man’ for thousands of years, you try swapping your language around. It’s a nightmare!”

She smirked and sniggered to herself, Yaz pushing herself away from the console and trying not to laugh at the commotion herself. Only the Doctor could make such a serious discussion funny. Regardless, she had a point, and Yaz was glad that they were finally talking about it. She felt a hand come and rest against her shoulder as the Doctor carried on talking.

“What I’m trying to say, in a roundabout sort of way, is that you can call me whatever you want. I won’t mind at all. Man. Woman. Alien. Table. Orange. So long as it’s not a pear. Those are gross. I’ll always answer to anything you or Ryan or Graham say, so don’t worry about pronouns or whatever. I’m just me. The Doctor. You know?”

Yaz gave a slow now, more than glad that the whole thing had been cleared up for her.


	8. Nine - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor wakes up and goes up against their own worst enemy - themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TW FOR DYSPHORIA IN THIS)
> 
> I decided to split this one up into two parts, because otherwise it would be too long for a "drabble".  
It is okay to skip this one, and I promise that the next part is a pick-me-up.  
Sometimes, dysphoria isn't something that can be beaten right away with support and kind words, and I wanted to explore that somewhat.
> 
> Also, different pronouns time. ALSO supportive Graham in droves.

_‘This body isn’t right for us…’_

From deep within the safety and warmth of the covers, came a low grumble. Eyes slowly fluttered open, just for a second, before closing again as slim fingers wrapped around the top of the duvet and pulled it up above their head. The Doctor groaned again, twisting and turning until they rolled onto their other side and heaved a weary sigh. It was far too early for them to be awake. Their body hadn’t recovered yet, brain wasn’t active enough. But some part of them was indeed awake, and hellbent on causing internal chaos.

_‘You can’t ignore it forever; this isn’t who we’re meant to be…’_

The voice persisted again, louder this time, leaving the Doctor little else to do other than to drag their knees up to their chest and retreat in on themselves. It was the last thing they needed to hear. Muscles ached in protest as they tried to curl tighter still, fingers intertwining into their hair and tugging down as the feeling of wrongness became suffocating and unrelenting.

_‘It’s too…soft. Too round. Too many curves, not enough sharp lines. Too much hair, too much flesh, so much extra to carry around. It’s limiting.’_

Nausea turned in the pit of their stomach, throat burning in anticipation for the bile rising and threatening to spill over. They felt too detached from themselves – too close as well – and no amount of posture changing or hiding was relieving the intense anguish and disgust at themselves. Harder, they tugged at their hair harder, hissing between gritted teeth at the vague attempt at grounding failed miserably and their world started to shrink in and start to tear them apart. The Doctor wanted to escape, to go out an explore the universe, but leaving the safety of their bed and dealing with the mortifying reality of being witnessed…was far too much to bear. Hopefully, it would be easy to pass off. Hopefully, their fam wouldn’t notice that they weren’t already bounding around the console and plotting in their next destination. Hopefully…they could just fade out of existence entirely.

_‘You’re too feminine. Too much a woman. People won’t change their opinion of you just because you ask them to. Everything about you screams female. Why even think about anything else? You aren’t around your people anymore; you have to conform.’_

“Shut up.”

The Doctor cursed through gritted teeth, jaw clenching as they tried to drown out the noise with the sound of their own teeth grinding. They wanted nothing more than for the voice in their head to keep quiet, but nothing would silence the murmurs of self-loathing and self-hatred. Burning tears started to prickle in the corners of their eyes as they buried deeper underneath the sheets. If there had been nobody else aboard the TARDIS, then the Doctor would have happily screamed and cursed. They would fling the covers off the bed and start a fight with whatever they could get their hands on. Although, they knew that the TARDIS would more than likely just jostle about until they calmed down, leaving them alone with the voices once more.

“I’m not a woman…I’m not…I’m…just…the Doctor.”

Mentally, their pain plateaued enough for white spots to appear behind their eyes and for their thoughts to drift away into a forced sleep. Or was it a blackout? The Doctor had no idea. All they heard was the sound of their hearts hammering away inside their head, along with a distinct chill of laughter.

* * *

Ryan, Graham and Yaz gathered around the console, all three of them staring down the hallway that lead further into the TARDIS. They had had a quiet breakfast without the Doctor, but thought nothing of it until they realised, she wasn’t around at all. It had been silently decided that they would wait for her, but as time wore on, little flecks of worry started to make themselves known around each of them. Ryan’s eyes would turn towards the console itself, hands fidgeting inside his jacket pockets. Part of him really wanted to see what some of the controls did, but another was a little more reserved and dared not to irritate the Time Lord by meddling with her precious ship. Graham idly tapped his feet against the metal grated floor, back pressed against the curved metal and occasionally whistling out a tune. Yaz – somehow unable to keep occupied at all by mundane means – had taken to pacing up and down and around one of the crystalline columns, head instinctively turning to the hallway whenever the TARDIS made a strange noise.

“Yaz, you’re gonna make us all dizzy pacing around like that.”

Briefly pausing mid stride, Yaz turned towards Graham before awkwardly shuffling to lean against the crystal spire, hands wringing against her stomach as she mumbled into her chest.

“Sorry. Didn’t realise. Just worried, I guess.”

“Why don’t’cha go check on her then? S’what you normally do, innit?”

Ryan came and stood next to her, gently tapping the side of her arm with his elbow twice. It did make her smile, although it concerned her that he had seemed to pick up on how often she seemed to be checking up on the Doctor. She couldn’t help it – not really – not after the time she had picked her up off the bathroom floor, or heard her sobbing underneath the stairs. With everything that had been happening over the last few months, surely it was okay for her to worry? Yaz offered Ryan the best smile she could muster, but stayed silent, eyes trailing past him to once more look down the hallway as a pang of fear hit her stomach. Something clearly wasn’t right. The Doctor was never late to adventure. She had missed breakfast several times over, almost passed out from low blood sugar as a result, and had to be reinvigorated by Graham’s constant supply of pocketed snacks. She wanted to go and check on her, but thankfully someone else beat her to the punch.

“You two stay here. Pretty sure I know where the Doc keeps her bedroom. Just gonna go check the door. Back in a jiffy.”

Graham straightened himself out slowly, briefly rubbing a shoulder before heading off towards the hexagonal steps. He ascended them just as slowly, turning around to give a supportive thumbs up before disappearing down the hallway. Truth be told, he actually had no idea where he was going. The only person to ever make their way to the Doctor’s bedroom was Yaz. She had dragged her there after she had fallen asleep under the console, still decked out in welding gear. It had been quite the sight, and he was sure Ryan still had photographic evidence of the scene on his phone. Still, Yaz looked far too frazzled to go and deal with the situation, and she had done more than her fair share of helping recently. He felt it was his turn, although it was hard to picture why on earth the Doctor would have been so late. He mindlessly followed the hallways, keeping track of the noises the TARDIS made. He trusted that the ship was taking him in the right direction. Over the months, he had gotten used to the vague feeling of knowing something he wasn’t sure why he knew. Something to do with telepathy. Whatever it was, it didn’t take long before he felt himself stopping at a door seemingly at random. Graham looked up at the ceiling with a quizzical expression, and shrugged before he gently knocked against the wood several times over. He was greeted with silence. Assuming he hadn’t been loud enough, he tried again, punctuating it with a question.

“Doc? Doctor, are you in there? Don’t tell me I’ve got the wrong place…”

There was more silence, and a moment where Graham was about to give up and try somewhere else, but just as he turned around, he could hear noise coming from behind the door. Shuffling. Some kind of movement. But also…crying? With nobody else on the ship, he knew it had to be the Doctor, but he had never heard her cry before. Part of him wondered if it were even possible, considering the vastly exuberant and sunny personality she seemingly wore all the time. Graham tried the door handle, except he found that it didn’t want to budge. There was another round of shuffling, followed by hiccups.

“N-no…Graham…d-don’t…I don’t…don’t want…you to…”

Graham let his hand drop from the handle, felt his heart breaking in his chest. He had no idea what had gotten the Doctor so distraught, but she sounded so afraid and alone in there. He took a moment to wrack his brains for something appropriate to say, or something to try and work out what was going on, but coming up blank in an unknown situation left him little option but to softly go straight to the point. With a quiet sigh, Graham moved a little closer to the door, keeping his ear close for any more reactions. Hopefully, he wouldn’t need to do anything drastic.

“Doc…do you want to talk? If not, I can just, go keep Ryan and Yaz busy for a while until you’re feeling a bit better.”

He could hear Grace in his head, the soft nurturing tone she used and the carefully crafted phrases she plucked out of the air. He remembered her saying something similar both in and out of the hospital. She had said it so often, that it was part of his own language. She knew exactly how to get an idea of what was going on inside someone’s head, and knew just how to make sure they were okay and affirm they were cared about above all else. Once again, he was left hanging with a pause, followed by more choked gasps. Soon enough though, the Doctor did talk back.

“I d-don’t…feel…like myself…Don’t know…who…or what…I am. It…it hurts, Graham. I just…think I need to…to be alone for a while…”

With a soft smile on his face – one that he hoped the Doctor would appreciate – Graham took a step back from the door and sighed again. If the only thing he could do was give the Doctor time, then that was what he would do. He couldn’t exactly go and drag her out of the room and try to fix whatever was bothering her, but he knew he could arrange things for when she finally came around. With ideas buzzing around inside his head, Graham turned to leave before speaking again.

“Whatever you need Doc. Just know, that whatever’s got you down…your family’s got your back, alright? If you can’t fight it alone, then don’t. We care about you, and want to help. Take care in there, sunshine.”

As he made his way back to the console room to tell Ryan and Yaz what had just happened, guided by the ever-present TARDIS, he set about constructing a simple plan of action. Behind closed doors, the Doctor muttered and whined to themselves. Their eyes were sore and stung from all the tears, their bones ached and felt the heaviest they had been in lifetimes. The voice inside their head was silent – for now – but they were left with the gnawing feeling of dread and the sense of detachment that grew ever stronger in the dark of their room. Once again, they shuffled deeper and deeper under the covers, clawing at themselves and wrapping up tighter, forcing another wave of sleep to come over them. Anything to stop the recurring voice telling them that they were wrong.


	9. Nine - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even at their lowest moment, feeling like their body doesn't belong to them, the Doctor realises they can always count on their fam to lend a helping hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to offset that hit of angst with something a lot softer.
> 
> Again, sometimes kinds words can't fix everything.  
Although, that doesn't mean they aren't nice to hear from time to time.  
This was going to be the next update on its own (after being inspired by my friends), but after having my own dark spot of similar circumstances along with another person, it felt appropriate to show the less sunny side too.
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me through this series, and the kind comments left. I hope I can keep writing more things like this with the help of one very gender careless Time Lord.

Silence. There was finally silence. The Doctor roused from their fifth – sixth? – round of sleep, slowly opening their eyes to the dark world under their duvet. Struggling to escape from the heavy weight of their own mind, they broke free out into the wide expanse of their bedroom, dragging both hands through their hair and grumbling under their breath. What time was it? How long had they slept for? Hands clapped together suddenly against their bare knees as they remembered what had happened an unknown time ago. Graham. He had come to check up on them. He had heard them crying and choking back tears from behind the door. Pain shot through their chest at the thought, soon filled with worry for their fam. The Doctor scrambled to their feet and hastily pulled their striped socks over their feet so they could try and find their friends. Pale blue-grey coat was hastily flung over their nightwear as they burst into the corridor and started to skate away. They trusted the TARDIS to guide them, felt the humming and buzzing enveloping them in warmth as she greeted them. Of course, she had been worried too, always was and always would be. The Doctor eventually made their way to the kitchen, almost careening past the open door entirely and only holding onto the doorframe by the skin of her fingertips.

“Fam?”

Finally righting themselves, the Doctor stood in the doorway with an attempt of a smile, eyes widening at the sight before them. The table had been laid with a fantastic spread of food, the likes of which had not been seen on the TARDIS for some time. The smell was something else, never mind the veritable sight of colours and textures already making their mind work overtime in curiosity. Each sitting in their same spots, were Ryan, Graham and Yaz. It had been clear they all had a hand in crafting such a feast, judging by their aprons and beaming smiles. The smile fell from the Doctor’s face as they stepped into the room, head dropping to on side and matted hair covering one of their eyes as they looked over their companions in turn.

“Nice to see you up and about, Doc. Thought you might need a little something to help out.”

“Yeah. Graham told us what’d happened. Me nan always used to say; nothing makes you feel better quicker than comfort food.”

“So, we decided to do this for you. Show you that no matter what, you’re safe with is.”

All three of them spoke in turn, rising up from their chairs and gesturing to the empty spot at the table. The Doctor froze up on the spot, went rigid and pallid almost, before their eyes started to shimmer in the warm light of the kitchen. It was Yaz who first went to make a move for them, but the Doctor held their hand out as they furiously rubbed their eyes with the other.

“S’okay. Just…still a little soft. You…did this all for me?”

A chorus of hums was what made the Doctor break out into a wide grin as a few stray tears began to make their way down their face. Sniffling, the Doctor shook it all off with a laugh before making their way to the empty chair and sliding down to face the mountain of food before them. Content that they weren’t about to have to comfort the Doctor further, the three companions sat down as Ryan passed a plate over towards the bedraggled Time Lord.

“Go on, dig in. Pretty sure we got your favourites down.”

Of course, they had.

* * *

They had eaten more than they had in weeks, everything had been just too good to pass up. Especially because everything had been made by their dearest companions. The Doctor sighed in content, slouching down into the sofa as they watched their friends laugh and joke around them. It was nice. Something they realised they hadn’t spent enough time appreciating. A gentle tap against their knee brought the Doctor from out of their quiet contemplation, eyes turning to see Yaz looking at them with concern.

“You okay?”

The Doctor gave a slow nod, gradually beginning to tune out the rest of the world to focus on Yaz. Fuzzy memories of the morning before were starting to creep in again, almost with the heavy feeling in their muscles. It seemed as if Yaz picked up the strange air lingering around them, and mouthed ‘two seconds’ softly towards them. The Doctor watched as she bounced between Ryan and Graham, muttering something they couldn’t quite pick up, before returning and holding out a hand towards them. They took hold of her offered hand tentatively, felt themselves being pulled up and lead out of the room. The Doctor watched as Ryan and Graham smiled and shouted goodnight towards them as they left. What was it that Yaz wanted from them? Intrigued warred with panic inside their chest, ribs growing tighter until they were slowly guided towards Yaz’s bed and urged to sit down. The Doctor felt themselves closing up again as wide hazel-green eyes stared and followed Yaz as she sat down beside them and placed a warm hand against their cold knee.

“Doctor…you don’t have to tell me what happened, but I just want to make sure you really are okay. We had a chat between us, and I said I’d check on you on your own. You know…in case you felt threatened by us all or something.”

Fingers moved over their skin – back and forth, back and forth – in a soothing rhythm that the Doctor was unsure was a memory or déjà vu. It was comforting, and they pressed a hand against Yaz’s to still it as they let out a long sigh. The Doctor wanted not to think about it, forget it ever existed, but they knew it was foolish not to tell their companions what had happened. Least of all Yaz. Especially Yaz. Particularly. Yaz. She had been so kind and thoughtful and somewhat instrumental to their whole chaotic thoughts about humanity. Or their lack there-of. The Doctor looked down at the plush carpet under their feet, counting the grains as they tried to formulate some kind of coherent sentence inside their head. How was it possible to explain what they felt? Part of them wondered about just…showing Yaz. Then again, nobody should have to experience the thoughts they had had. Free hand twitched against the covers as the Doctor finally looked up to Yaz with a deadpan expression and a low voice coming from their dry throat.

“This body…it doesn’t feel right to me. It scares me, makes me sick, feels heavy and cumbersome. I…I think I hate it, Yaz. All of it. None of it is…right.”

They expected a gasp. Tears. Anger. Confusion. Something. Anything. Certainly not what they got instead. The Doctor said nothing, did nothing, fell like putty into the hands of Yasmin Khan as soon they felt fingertips ghosting over the smooth skin of her cheeks. She was fixed in concentration, delicately moving across every facet of their face with nothing but a warm smile.

“Oh Doctor…”

_What was she doing?_

“I wish you could see the things that I see on a daily basis…”

Eyebrows raised in confusion, quizzically, as the Doctor’s face shifted to a slight knot of intrigue.

“You’ve got the sharpest features; your cheekbones, your jaw. You’re so wonderfully expressive, and your eyes always light up at the wonder of the universe.”

Her hands travelled then down their neck, cautiously, running over their shoulders and down their arms until she had taken hold both of their hands.

“You carry the world on your shoulders, with such strength and determination. You can create the most beautiful things with your hands, and use your body to protect us and keep us safe from the universe.”

Yaz continued on, her eyes roaming so delicately over the Doctor’s body that they felt no kinds of discomfort, only care and love.

“You skin is soft and smooth, painted with starlight freckles. You are youthful and aged, but both of those aren’t flaws. They show who you are, your character, everything that this world needs to see.”

Arms came around the Doctor, pulling them in close as Yaz started to move soothing circles with her palms between her shoulder blades. She hushed and cooed, felt them go slack in her arms, now shaking hands gradually coming around to rest against Yaz’s hips as they lay their head against her shoulder and let out a staggered breath. Yaz pressed her head against their own, smiling as she whispered int the warmth of their hair.

“Doctor, whatever you think about yourself now…it’s okay. You don’t have to like yourself. Nobody can make you. I just wish you could see how beautiful you really are…or handsome…whatever, pick whatever adjective you want to hear. If you ever have those thoughts again, I want you to know that you aren’t any of those things to me. You’re the best person I’ve ever met, remember?”

Silence enveloped them, but it was soon broken with the sound of muffled sobs. Yaz quickly pulled back, frantically searching the Doctor’s tear streaked face for the problem. She opened her mouth, desperate to apologise for whatever she had done to upset them, but the Doctor untangled themselves and pressed two fingers against her lips and watched her slouch in submission. In between their tears, the Doctor smiled and laughed, shaking their head.

“Don’t say sorry, Yaz. I know it’s coming. I felt it. Heard it in your head. I’m not crying because I’m sad, not this time anyway. I promise.”

They pushed stray strands of hair from out of Yaz’s eyes, leaving one hand to rest against her cheek as their thumb stroked across it softly.

“Thank you. Not just you. Ryan and Graham too. All of you. But, right now, especially you. Because…you’re right. I don’t see those things. I thought I did, maybe, at one point, but sometimes I see the worst. All I can see is how soft I am, how people don’t pay attention to me anymore or think I’m weaker or stupider now. That’s the person who I saw this morning. You reminded me that I’m not those things…even if it feels like I am. I don’t know what I’d do without my fam.”

Taking their hand away, the Doctor brought Yaz in for a decidedly strong hug, squeezing her enough for her to start laughing. Soon, both of them were, and the Doctor remembered just why they had fallen in love with her found family. They were perfect for them. Full of the kindness that they never reserved for themselves, only for the rest of the universe.


	10. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz wants to show the Doctor all about Trans Day of Visibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little something to celebrate all my trans, nonbinary and beyond friends on this wonderful day x

"Doctor?"

Peering around the corner of the doorway into the lounge, Yaz looked around for the Doctor. She had been trying to find her for a good ten minutes, and had finally stumbled across her. Her coat was draped across her lap, and she lay lounged across the sofa, one leg dangling off the arms and the other brought up to her stomach. A book was resting against her knee, but she soon perked up at the sound of a familiar voice. The book was closed and dropped to the floor as the Doctor shuffled upright. She beckoned Yaz over, wide smile on her face as her companion sat down on the now free arm of the sofa with a smile of her own.

"Yaz! Sorry, got lost in my book. Been far too long since I've read anything new. Love to keep the old brain active and all. You alright?"

Yaz nodded, fumbling briefly with the phone in her hands. The whole of team TARDIS had been lingering around in the time vortex for a while, just until the Doctor had finally rested up enough for them to get going somewhere new. Which meant time for Yaz to check up on various things. She had been listening to music and looking at her friends and family's pages over social media, when something caught her attention. Something that she wondered if the Doctor would be interested in. Of course, she had no real idea of how to broach the subject, and had just wandered away from her bedroom on a whim. The Doctor noticed her anxious fidgeting, one hand shifting to still her own as she moved closer and looked over her with concerned eyes. Yaz smiled again, nudging the Doctor away just enough to turn her phone towards her.

"I. Um. Found this and...I wasn't sure...if maybe you'd like it. If not then I'm sorry! It's just that, with you feeling so down recently…"

She paused when the Doctor took the phone from out of her hands, eyes shifting to glance over the screen. She flicked through the images and text slowly, expression slowly changing every few seconds, going through many things Yaz couldn't quite describe. Somehow, it made her terribly nervous, the prospect of upsetting the Doctor. Yet - thankfully - she was just greeted with a little bit of confusion.

"Visibility? Sorry Yaz, feeling a bit slow today, not sure what you're getting at here. What's all this about?"

"Back on Earth, right now anyway, today marks something called 'trans day of visibility'. We've got quite a few days like this, or there's the whole of gay pride month too. Basically, people who don't really fit the whole "binary" as you like to call it, show how proud they are not to. I kind of thought that maybe...if it's alright with you of course, I don't want to make you feel bad or anything...we could do something for it? For you, I mean."

With the phone passed back into her hands, Yaz waited for a response. The Doctor was always terribly fond of all the random human traditions or bits of culture she came across. Yaz had seen her almost explode with joy over Rosa Parks Day. After seeing the Time Lord swing too and fro from various emotions about how she currently looked, Yaz had saved the date in her calender specifically. Hoping that it would do some good. The Doctor's eyes were still trained on the phone for a few more seconds before she looked over to Yaz. The confusion melted away into joy very quickly, and the Doctor scrambled onto her feet like an overexcited child.

"Oh, brilliant! This is brilliant! Yaz, you're an angel. I've got an idea. Come on, follow me, this is gonna be ace!"

Almost dropping her phone from the force with which the Doctor grabbed her, Yaz was thrown onto her feet and tugged out of the lounge. She tried to question what had gotten the Time Lord so worked up in such a short space of time, but all she got was shushed and beamed at as they made their way through the TARDIS. Evidently, she had been right with her hopeful hunch. It took a second for her to notice she was being taken towards the wardrobe room, which left her with even more questions. Thankfully, the Doctor stopped outside, bouncing on her heels as she pushed the door open.

"Help me find something good to wear. I'm thinking...shirt? Or would that be too much of a stereotype. But I don't feel like anything else would work. Oh, I don't know. This is why I need you."

"Need me for what exactly, Doctor? You haven't been this hyperactive in days."

"A photo! A photo of us. I mean, you wanted to do something, right? Well, if anyone knows how to put into words what exactly I feel, it's you. And I want you with me because...well...I…"

The Doctor paused, mouth open, and Yaz was sure she could see some colour appearing on her cheeks. Smiling softly and moving to stand in front of her, Yaz urged her to follow into the wardrobe room with a soft smile.

"Come on then, I've got an idea too."

Both of them disappeared into the wardrobe room, muttering about various things.

* * *

_ 'I know I don't normally post to social media these days. Sorry, life has been too hectic. I just wanted to put something out there for you all. I'd like you all to meet the Doctor! They're a lovely person, and the person I travel with all the time. They're nonbinary, which means that they don't identify as male or female. If you want to get technical, the one they identify with most is agenderflux. So instead of feeling the binary gender, sometimes they feel a bit more feminine or a bit more masculine. They are here to celebrate Trans Day of Visibility with me, and I love and support them above all else. I love my nonbinary girlfriend x' _

Attached to the post, was a picture of both Yaz and the Doctor in suits. A flag in the nonbinary colours was draped over her shoulders, as well as a trans flag painted on each of her cheeks. One of which, Yaz was kissing softly.


	11. Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor struggles with a dream - or is it a nightmare - that leads them to another reminder of why their Fam is the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally just a stream of consciousness ramble to combat whatever the heck is going on inside my head right now.
> 
> Whether or not this stays as a chapter is beyond me, but until then come on another rollercoaster with me.

Eleven - Binding

They were asleep. It was clear as day, they had to be. There was no other explanation for what was happening. Except, that meant that they didn't want to wake up. Ever. They were happy - so happy - but it was marred by the obvious absurdity of it all. Little fragments of them were being torn in all directions by so many thoughts, a series of loud noises that did nothing to deter their movement. Through the darkness they moved, silent and sure, creeping ever closer to the blazing light ahead of them. What exactly was waiting for them at the other end? Oh, only one thing of course. Whispers surrounded them, breathing the darkness back into their soul, spreading the truth and lies combined that made them whole and broken. Flecks of light sprang up around them, shimmering little moments of themselves all around. They saw him, and him, and him too. All of them, their highs and their lows, with only one thing persisting between them all. Of course, there was only ever one thing that tied them all together.

Him.

They had been a man for so long, the only lives they could even remember, the vague hints of femininity that came before them hidden and masked and made out to never exist. Except they had seen her - Ruth and the child - seen who he had used to be. But the memories felt like nothing to them, like a different person attached to their lives, someone they knew nothing about. Surely though, they had been proud of those shapes. But not now. No, certainly not now. Those shapes brought nothing but trouble and pain and discomfort and fear. So much fear. Nothing felt right, no matter what they did. The neutrality was all they had left to hold on to. There was no way they could just slip back into their old ways...not without breaking what they had managed to salvage of connections. No, they wouldn't wish the change on them. Even then, sure they had more control supposedly, but what would that even do to them? No other part of them had ever felt this way, so who was to say the feelings would carry over and they would even recognise the change as the thing they wanted above all else?

He span around them, all of him and he and his did. They saw it all. It hurt, so much. Pale fingers twitched and shook, wanting desperately to just tear themselves apart. It was possible, they were strong enough. There were shards all around them, floating in the darkness, glittering and gleaming and calling out to them. They could free themselves from the hellscape that their waking life was. But all they had to do was get to the light. They knew it would save them from everything. It had to. That was why they were dreaming, it always was. The dreams had meaning, were a means of dealing with their thoughts that were not able to be dealt with in the waking world. No matter how hard they tried. The light was all they needed. It gave them reprieve and a sense of calm that nothing else could. It bathed them in warmth and acceptance, melting away every worry and ounce of fear their slight frame held. Hands moved, finally free, gliding over their body as they let out a long exhale into the light that consumed them so wholly.

Except, they woke.

Hands gripped their chest tightly as the darkness of the room became all too real for them. The Doctor scrambled free of her own hold, flinging aside bedcovers and tearing into the shirt she slept in. Shreds of material and thread scattered across the room as she tore and ripped and rendered the material just useless scraps. She could feel the weight across her chest - felt it in her soul - and she ground her teeth together in the only means of stifling the cries that were bubbling up inside her throat. They burnt away at her skin and bone, tears slowly dripping onto the faded flannel trousers and blistering her cheeks as they rolled down her jaw. Of course, only in her dreams, could she truly be content in where she had ended up. While her facade still stood to the outside world, she would continue to dream and wake up disappointed and more afraid than when she had fallen asleep. It was too good to be true, really, that the body she wanted more than anything else could actually exist outside the confines of her own mind. Too good to be true that she could actually embrace the change.

When she dragged her sorry, sleep deprived prison out to breakfast, the Doctor looked beyond worse for wear. She couldn't hide it, not anymore. Not again. What she expected was a lot of questions about her poor state - she did love how much her fam cared, deep down - and was somewhat taken aback when instead there was a hushed silence across the room. She certainly didn't expect that the three of her companions shared knowing glances before something was passed across the table. The Doctor took hold of the small box, completely nondescript white cardboard, and eyed all three of her companions. In turn they all nodded; Ryan, Graham, Yaz. The fear came back, rolling over her in waves, but the Doctor willed her shaking fingers to move and pull the casing apart. With the lid placed beside her plate of half eaten toast, the Doctor looked inside and felt as if the world had stopped. No, she was back in the dreamscape. Surely. There was no way that…

No, she was awake. She knew she was awake, she could hear the thundering of two hearts inside her head, drowning out every dark thought she had had since waking up. How could they have? How did they? The Doctor was completely shaking as she drew out from the box, something she thought she would never see in her lifetime. Decorated in the faintest of rainbow stripes against a background as dark as the universe itself, was the only thing that she knew possible to make her feel better. There was no need for words - not that she could even consider opening her mouth with the onset of tears - because her fam were soon out of their chairs and surrounding her. Three sets of arms cocooned her in safety as she clung the item of clothing so close to her hearts that she finally felt the weight that clung to her slowly start to lift away.

It was the best gift that they could ever have asked for. A means to blur all the lines just enough for them to feel happy. Transdimensional technology, akin to their TARDIS, optimised and woven right into the very fabric of their new comfort item. Something to bind them together and stitch them back into a whole Doctor again.


End file.
